


Hell is just a room with no mirrors

by Aurora_Damigny



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Hell, M/M, Philosophy, Survival
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-10-15
Updated: 2020-01-21
Packaged: 2020-12-17 03:00:29
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 11,567
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21047189
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aurora_Damigny/pseuds/Aurora_Damigny
Summary: "The floor is like plastic under his fingers. It makes his survival instincts go crazy, because sitting in a completely airtight room forever is just not something humans do.There are no doors, no windows no air vent. Sam can't look. He presses his forehead against his knees, also to avoid looking back at Lucifer's inquiring stare. He stops moving on the off chance that he might end up blending in the too clean and too white walls of this prison.He realizes eventually that, with the lamp being out of their reach, there is nothing that can be used as a weapon in this room. He wonders if Lucifer will end up using his nails and teeth to reduce Sam to shreds. "- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -"Where are the instruments of torture ... the racks and red-hot pincers?" Garcin, Chapter 1. No exit, Jean-Paul Sartre.In which hell is others, except in literal hell.





	1. No exit

**Author's Note:**

> "Know ye not that we shall judge angels? how much more things that pertain to this life?" Corinthians 6:3 (KJV)

His face is pressed against white tiles. They're warm, like they produce heath.

The last thing he remembers is a harsh light and an horrendous pain, as if his body was pulled in every directions at the same time. But now he only feels heavy, like he napped for too long in the middle of the day.

"Sam ?"

He tries to turn his head, but the light is too strong for his still adjusting eyes, and he can only distinguish a humanoid figure sitting not far from him. 

"The light.." He says with difficulty, hoping that the stranger will understand what he means.

"I know. But I can't turn it off." The low, strangely resonating voice answers. 

He turns to lie on his back. When his skin leaves the floor, it cools down immediately. 

It's not a hospital, even if the sterile smell and the immaculate white floor, walls and ceiling seem to indicate it. 

It's a rectangular room. Completely empty, except for the lamp which reminds Sam of the one the policemen used to flaunt in he and his brother's face to try to scare them. 

"Dean."

The word is broken, ripped from his throat like he had swallowed sand. The sensation travels from his mouth to his chest and stays there, screaming for attention. 

"He's fine. He's still up there."

Suddenly, Sam's legs move to lift his upper body. Because now he recognizes something in this voice. 

The devil is standing on the other side of the room, in a constraining human form, but he still manages to fill all the space. Sam doesn't recognizes his face. It's not Nick, but he has the same blue eyes and ash blond hair. Maybe someone from the same family.

Sam waits. He doesn't try to stop his erratic breathing or to calm the shivers that runs throughs his body, because what is about to happen won't leave him the choice of impassibility anyway. 

Lucifer doesn't move from his spot. Leaning on the opposite wall like he cares about Sam's personal space. 

He stares at the Winchester with calm interest. Without rage or madness. Which is ludicrous because Sam is certain that he just condemned them to an eternity in this box, and Lucifer will probably start torturing him any minute now. 

The silence quickly becomes oppressive, to the point where Sam starts to wonder if waiting until he starts to panic and scream is not part of the game. 

He sat down about an hour ago. Maybe more, maybe less, time is impossible to understand in the cage. 

The floor is like plastic under his fingers. It makes his survival instincts go crazy, because sitting in a completely airtight room forever is just not something humans do. 

There are no doors, no windows no air vent. Sam can't look. He presses his forehead against his knees, also to avoid looking back at Lucifer's inquiring stare. He stops moving on the off chance that he might end up blending in the too clean and too white walls of this prison. 

He realizes eventually that, with the lamp being out of their reach, there is nothing that can be used as a weapon in this room. He wonders if Lucifer will end up using his nails and teeth to reduce Sam to shreds. 

He wonders if he'll feel like Dean, when the hellhounds were peeling his skin and gnawing at his organs like they were rummaging through the inside of him. 

Finally, the question is too painful and he has to ask, or he'll be driven insane by repeating it again and again in head. 

"Adam ?"

Lucifer squints, like he's trying to see him better in the blinding light. 

"I don't feel his presence. Or Michael's. But they are probably somewhere outside the cage."

"What's outside the cage ?"

"I don't know Sam, as you can see, I'm pretty limited here."

Sam thinks "There is it." The announcement. The reminder that one of the most powerful beings in creation is stuck is this tiny space, and it's his fault.  
  
He's waiting for the consequences. But silence fills the room and nothing happens. 

He wonders if he should speak again, wonders if talking will change anything, and wonders how much longer he can wait like this until he eventually starts to hurt himself.

How much time has it been now ? How many days ?

"Won't you.. Torture me.. Make me pay ?" He finally asks, staring bravely at Lucifer, because he's a Winchester and he won't give in even in the last moments. 

Before he forgets who he is and where he comes from, and his own name. Even his brother.

Dean managed to endure hell for years before he started to let his identity leak out of him to the rhythm of his blood on the fire. So Sam will be strong, and hang on as long as he can.

  
Until the humming of the impala's motor, and the smell of his dad's leather jacket, and the taste of the sandwiches Dean used to make for him and it was just them and an old T.V in a shitty motel, until all that disappears. 

But Lucifer smiles sadly, like seeing Sam gather his courage brings back painful memories.

"It's the cage Sam. Whatever I could do to you will not be worst than being trapped here."

Sam frowns. "Are you trying to scare me ?"

"No. I'm not Allistair, who I'm sure did a great job at torturing your brother. Although I killed many of you, I never tried inflicting pain on purpose." Lucifer shrugs at Sam's surprise, like he thinks nothing of it.

"But my father, he's the master at inflicting pain. As he's the one who created both of our consciousness. He's also the best at pulling them appart."

"How do I know you're not lying ?" Sam says, mostly to himself.

"I have never lied to you Sam, and I never will. But you're right, you can't know that for sure. However, I'm afraid this won't change anything, as I appear to be your only company for a while. And people do need distractions."

At this moment, Sam realizes he's doomed.

It might be Lucifer's plan, or it might just be fucked up circumstances, but the devil's right. Eventually, he'll give in and do anything the archangel wants just to be distracted from this place. Just to talk to someone.

Lucifer is his only "other". The only conscious being that's not him available now. And Sam will let him into his mind until he can get every once of novelty, until they're indistinguishable.

He stands up so fast he feels lightheaded for a moment.

"I have to find a way out." He says. And his voice sounds desperate, but his fists are closed like he's about to fight. 

\- - - - - -

As he regains consciousness, Adam remembers a class he had back in college on sleep paralysis. He wonders if that's what's happening to him right now. 

Waking up is agonizingly slow, like every neuron is reconnecting one by one. First, he feels himself breath. A moment later, his heart starts to beat again. And already those two sensations seem to be too much for his still reconstructing brain. 

Inhale, exhale,

Boum, boum boum, 

Inhale, exhale,

  
A hand on his chest. 

He twitches as his muscles seem to grow back, heavy and relaxed like he was injected a huge dose of muscle relaxant drugs. 

He kneels awkwardly, keeping his hands on the floor to not loose his balance, and looks around. 

He's in a long corridor, in the middle of what seems to be a very old dilapidated stone building. The floor is a disgusting shade of yellow and the walls are grey and covered in cracks. 

There are numerous doors on both sides of the walls, and some lantern left on the floors light the whole scene, although it remains quite dark. 

Adam is so fucking scared. 

Is this the cage ? Is he dead again ? He doesn't remember what happened after he and Michael were pushed in the pit by his oh so dear brother Sam. 

Sam. He has to find Sam. 

He has to lean heavily on the wall but he manages to walk to the closest door. The smells hit him first when he opens it. Then he realizes that it's not paint, everything is covered in blood, and there are chains coming out of the walls and…

  
Something was kept there, until its jailers apparently ripped it appart. 

  
Adam closes the door and takes a few quick step back, until his legs give out and he falls on the dusty floor. 

As he tries to stand up again to get as far from the room as possible, he hears a cracking sound somewhere down the hallway. He stops breathing, waiting for something else.

"Sam ?" He breathes out quietly, not daring to speak too loud.

Suddenly, a hundred of little taping noises, like something is approaching, and like it has many, many legs. 

Adam throws himself on the floor and starts crawling as fast as he can. Dust fills his lungs and his arms burn and the thing behind him is approaching fast.

  
He screams as blood sips out of his hands, feeling himself run out of energy.

There is a sound of wind, and two legs blocking Adam's escape. The taping noise stops for a second, and then starts again, becoming weaker and weaker this time as the creature gets away from him. 

Adam throws himself in a sitting positing against the wall, panting and couching the dust he inhaled. 

He eventually looks up to the person that just appeared.The man must be about his age, with jet-black hair, a tan skin and green eyes. He's wearing a dark blue shirt and black jeans. 

  
Adam doesn't need to ask to know it's Michael.

There is just something about the angel, a way of holding the shoulders and of articulating the facial muscles, that Adam recognizes from having been moved that way. 

Michael is looking at the empty space where that thing was coming from like maybe he can still see it. Adam doesn't even want to try to. 

"Where is Sam ?" He asks instead. 

The archangel turnsto Adam, his stare too empty to be mistaken for thoughtfulness.

"Your muscles are still weak." He says like maybe Adam doesn't know that already. 

The memory of a warm hand on his chest, making his heart beat again, comes to Adam's mind. 

"You stitched me back together, right ? A shitty job you did."

Michael approaches him and Adam remembers that maybe he shouldn't be provoking the archangel like that.  


He doesn't know Michael, but he knew Zachariah, and Zachariah was quick to anger and even quicker to violence. 

Adam flinches when the angel brushes the tip of his fingers against the blond's head, but luckily he doesn't explode in a million bloody confetti. 

"Stand up." The angel orders.   
  
The Milligan is about to object but he realizes that his body feels a lot lighter than before. He manages to get on his feet and take a few steps away from Michael.

But the angel is not trying to get near him anymore. Instead, he turns around and starts walking away. 

Adam hesitates for a second, but there is some damn giant spider on the other side of this hallway that he wants to spend time with even less.

Michael takes him through a few identical corridors until they reach a door that he seems to recognize. It seems pretty identical to every other one to Adam, but the Archangel stops in front of it and stares at it like it's important. 

"That's the cage." He says bluntly. 

Adam almost snaps his neck from looking at the door too fast. "Wait. Aren't we in the cage right now ?"

"The cage was only made for my brother. We got ejected to the outside of it. This is.. Hell's prison." 

"And Sam ? Where is he ?" 

"Lucifer and him were still one when we fell. He was absorbed by the cage too."

Adam approaches the door, hesitant, and puts his hand flat on it. He tries to push it open but despite the absence of a lock, it won't budge. 

Adam remembers being very young and trying to help his mom carry the groceries. He would try to lift a water bottle that weight as much as he did back then, and would receive a kind but condescending smile for the adults in the supermarket.

Adam feels like if a door could be condescending, this one would be mocking him right now. 

"We have to get him out of here." He tells the angel. 

"We're also trapped." Michael points out. "This place was made to keep all the worst failures of creation locked in the cells."

"What was that thing, earlier then ? Didn't seem very locked."

"We crashed against the cage and were thrown in there. The impact of my fall opened many cells and ejected your soul from your body when it got destroyed."

  
That's a lot of alarming informations for Adam to take in at once. "My soul.. My body was destroyed ?"

"Like you said, I 'stitched you back together' and put your soul back in, otherwise it would have been eaten by one of the creatures immediately. A naked soul is too vulnerable." 

What a creepy way to talk about his soul. "Alright but.. What about you ? Who is that vessel ?"

"That is my first vessel."

"The first ? As in.."

"The first one I ever used to walk the earth. Apparently, it's part of this place's rules not to allow angels in their true forms. It appeared around me and is keeping me in."

Michael doesn't seem happy about it. Adam can't imagine how it must feel like, to be suddenly restricted to flesh, nerves, and gravity.

  
"Why is hell a old building ?"

"Is that what you see ?" Michael seems maybe curious about that. 

Adam doesn't like the question, doesn't want to know the implication of it. Because if this is the PG version of this place, he'd rather stick with that. 

"I still have to defeat my brother." The archangel says, when Adam doesn't answer. "For that, I need to go back to earth." 

"I'd be down for that." Adam says. The other doesn't look like he's listening anymore. He's completely motionless for a few minutes, and then there is a gust of wind and he's gone. 

"Asshole." Adam sighs to the door. 

Then he freezes as well, because he doesn't know who or what could hear him and.

Devour his soul apparently.

Fuck, fuck, fuck, what should he do ? 

He stares at the endless hallway that seems to lead nowhere. 

One way to find out. 

His feet make a light sound against the floor, so weak compared to the heavy steps of the monster that came earlier. 

He shivers. He's not going to cry. 

He doesn't even want to. This feels too much like a nightmare he's going to wake up from. There is no way all of this is real. Nothing felt real since the creature dug his fingers inside his mom's skull and ate her brain like a child eats jam. 

"Mom." He stops walking. She's not here. They're as far away as they can be now. But if he could get out of here, maybe he could see her again. Maybe he'll be sent back to this playground where she took him after her long days of work. 

The hope is not real either, but it's something. Like this place, it's an illusion he prefers to the truth. 


	2. Acts 12:7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "And, behold, the angel of the Lord came upon him, and a light shined in the prison: and he smote Peter on the side, and raised him up, saying, Arise up quickly. And his chains fell off from his hands" (Acts 12:7).

Sam inspects every inches on his side of the cage. The floor is warm like it's made of flesh, but hard and clean. However, the celling seems to be cold. Tracing the wall with his hands, he can feel it becoming less and less heated as he goes up.

It's upside down, like the sun comes from the ground and coldness comes from above. It makes the room disorienting, on top of how stressful the perpetual blinding light is. 

Sam gets in a routine of shifts. Inspecting, resting his body, inspecting again, resting some more. He can't sleep, and he doesn't feel tired, but he can't handle spending too much time without lying down for a bit and pretend he still needs the rest. His psyche is already so, so fragile. 

But eventually it becomes too much, and he tells himself he can't handle it anymore and he's going to die from the weight of the permanence of this place. He sits on the floor in a curled up position and thinks, it's over, he's at his limit.

  
But times goes on, and nothing happens. He doesn't die, this doesn't stop, the room doesn't change. 

Nothing changes.

Nothing changes.

Nothing changes. 

"Sam, talk to me."   
  
He raises his head from where it was curled up in his hands, trying to hide the light. Lucifer hasn't moved an inch during this whole time.

"I don't know how long your species can support isolation. But you've been whispering to yourself for a while now." 

  
He has ? Sam can't tell, he can't tell what he's doing. He's not in control anymore.  
  
He feels himself shiver, because that doesn't bring back good memories.

"Sam ?"

"Who is your vessel ?" He asks. He can't touch Lucifer and inspect him like the cage, but he's been wondering. 

There is something like relief on his face. "It's not exactly a vessel. It's a receptacle that God made for us, so we could walk the earth, before humans existed. Also in his image, but not really flesh and bones." 

"Why do you have a body here ?" Although Sam is not wishing for more light right now. 

Lucifer shrugs. "I guess it's part of the punishment, to be back in this shape, experience something close to human limitations. I've always been like this in the cage."

  
Sam realizes that this is why Lucifer had looked so confortable wearing Nick back on earth. Compared to the other angels who always look so stiff and serious, he had been relaxed and natural. He must be the angel who has spent the most time in a human form ever. 

  
God really wanted to torture him. 

It makes Sam dizzy to talk to another individual, like he had forgotten that there was anything else than him and these four walls. He feels fragile and unsteady, hollow, like a small child. 

But it's dangerous. Dangerous, dangerous, dangerous, dangerous. It would be too easy for Lucifer to use that against him. He manipulated him when Sam was far more mentally stable. 

He tries to stand up but his legs give out underneath him. He feels something move in his stomach, foreign. He wants to throw up. There is a sound like something light moves the air and then Lucifer is right in front of him. 

"Sam ?" His hand hovers above the human's shoulder like maybe he wants to touch him. It's painful how much Sam wants him too, wants to touch anything that isn't hard and dead. 

But Dean wouldn't forgive that.

"You killed Castiel." 

The devil freezes and stands up again. Sam sits with his back against the wall and holds on to himself. Hard. 

"He had hurt my brother." 

"Weren't you about to kill Michael anyway ?" Sam sighs, gritting his teeth. "Now Dean is up there alone, without Cas, and without me. Jo, and Ellen. Our mom and dad. Do you know how many people he lost for your stupid war ?" 

"It's not my war." Is all Lucifer says. He doesn't apologize. Of course he doesn't. 

"Don't touch me." Sam orders. 

To his surprise, the devil actually goes back to his side of the cage and sits there again. 

There is at least hours of silence before he talks again.

"Before I was thrown in the cage." His voice is lower than usual, heavy with memories. "My father created lots of things. Some great, some dangerous, some barely able to function. Me and my brothers had the role to remove the undesirable ones. We were the destructors so that my father would remain the creator."

Sam is staring at him now, but Lucifer is contemplating the light on the ceiling, like maybe it was meant to remind him of his father. Blinding, eternal, powerful. Unbearable.

"I destroyed everything I deemed unworthy of existing. I was allowed. Except for humans." He looks down at Sam. "Your species was so flawed, needy and fragile. It was so easy to make you cruel. You readily got angry at your own weaknesses. Would quickly hate my father because of it." 

The ways he talks about anger, Sam can't help but wonder if it even existed before humans felt it. If its them who taught it to the devil and not the other way around. 

"I couldn't understand. Even some angels would get destroyed when they were too rebellious, but you kept messing up and you where still there. It wasn't fair." 

"It wasn't our fault." Sam has to say. Because humanity and his brother are the two things he will always defend. 

"It wasn't." Lucifer agrees. "And it wasn't Castiel's fault either. But they just weren't worthy of existing."

  
Sam shivers. It's not an unfamiliar way of thinking for him. It's what they did. His brother, his father, and him, going around killing everything dangerous to humans. Some of those creatures had no choice but to murder. But they had decided that their lives wasn't worth those of people. 

Monster had been a convenient classification during those times. 

"You don't get to decide that." He says, but his throat feels constricted by his own contradictions.

\- - - - - -

  
The first room Adam finds open is completely empty. The second one is filled with little pieces of something green and mushy that looks like it exploded everywhere. The third one contains a giant piece of metal with shackles on it, and a bunch of knives lying on the ground. 

  
Adam grabs one that is particularly long and sharp, and looks like it might be a useful weapon. Then he walks out of the room quickly. 

  
He has no experience with surviving in this kind of situations. He imagines Sam or Dean would know what to do, but if something ends up attacking him he'll be lucky if he doesn't stab himself with his own weapon. 

It looks like the hallway has no beginning and no end, Adam has been walking in it for hours and hasn't made a single turn. He imagines that it's probably on a scale of immensity that his human legs can not walk. 

Right. He's not supposed to be here. Actually, he's probably the only person to have ever seen this place. Kind of like Neil Armstrong, he's the first to go somewhere humanity never went. 

  
Should he put the american flag somewhere or would that be offensive to God ? 

  
He shakes his head. Fuck, he's already loosing it. He manages to open another door but the smell that hits him makes him close it immediately. He takes a few step backward and falls on his knees. He's pretty sure that he would throw up if he had eaten anything. 

He hears a door opening and closing behind him. He stands up immediately and turns around, raising his knife in what he hopes is a convincing fighting stance. 

There is nothing as far as he can see. 

Something slams another door behind him. He turns again, feeling his heart beat madly in his chest. His hand shake frantically and he can't steady them. 

A few meters away from him, a door opens again, slowly this time. 

The thing that comes out of it is smaller in size than Adam. It has a humanoid shape, two legs, but a single arm on the left. Its skin looks like a burnt newspaper, grey and dusty. It has two small eyes that look like they were sawn shut, no nose, and a mouth that is a bit higher than were a human one would be, curved, like it's smiling. 

Adam drops his knife. 

The thing is walking towards him now, and he wants to run away but his body won't move. 

It has impossibly long fingers on its single hand, always moving, like a spider's legs. 

Adam takes a step back.

Then it's running. The fingers grab Adam's leg and go through like he's made of jelly. He screams. 

The smiling mouth opens and the inside is red like a human's would be, and that scares the Milligan more than anything else. He tries to lean away from it but the thing is pulling on his leg until he can only get closer. 

Then something wraps around his torso and a sword goes through the thing's head. 

It makes a screechy noise of pain and turns into black, dirty dust. 

"You should have stayed where I left you." 

It's Michael's voice. Adam's legs give out and he lets himself fall against the other's chest. The angel keeps him upright with the arm that is still wrapped around him.

He stays there and breathe until he doesn't feel like the monster's mouth is about swallow him. 

"Why would." His voice is shaking, he swallows his saliva that that tastes like bile. "Why would I ?"

He gets out of Michael's grip and looks at the archangel. He's expressionless, but Adam gets a feeling that he's annoyed with him.  


Fuck him. 

Standing by himself again, Adam is starting to feel the pain in his leg. He sits down and rolls up his jean. 

"Shit, shit, shit" Yeah, he can definitely see the bone. He's been cut through like butter and now his blood is spilling everywhere. "Can you fix me ?" He asks to Michael. 

The angel goes from annoyed to very annoyed. "I need to rest, it took me a lot of power to visit this entire place."

  
Fuck. Him.

Adam takes off his jacket and wraps it around his leg. It's definitely not going to be enough but at least he won't die immediately. "You don't happen to have a needle and some surgical thread and antiseptic right ?" 

This time, Michael looks like he has no idea what he's talking about. Great. 

"What was that ?" He nods toward the pile of dust. At least something the great archangel might know about. 

"What I've been searching." Michael stares at the remains of the creature with something akin to disgust. "They are the guardians of the cages. The jailers of it's prisoners. Their energy is what sustains this place. I think that if I kill all of them, the entire prison might crumble."

"What if it doesn't ?" 

"Regardless of that, they are trying to kill us, and they will if we do not kill them first."

Great. Is there one thing in creation that is not trying to kill Adam ? 

"Follow me." Michael walks past the human, apparently deciding that their conversation is over. 

Adam groans, but he has no better option. He follows the archangel, limping, trying not to put too much weight on his wounded leg as it would make him die faster. 

He's so glad he studied medicine to at least know that, he thinks sarcastically. 

Michael opens the door and takes him inside a large room. Compared to the other ones he's seen, it's clean and kind of nice. The walls are a light blue and the floor is brown. Its filled with wooden boxes. 

Adam sits on the floor and opens one. It contains a bunch of books that look pretty old, hand sewn and in a language the man doesn't recognize. 

"What the hell ?" He whispers, it's the first thing he sees here that seems to come from earth. 

"Whatever was here, it was allowed some gifts as a distraction." The angels explains. 

Michael doesn't seem to happy about that, but Adam isn't really surprised that God has favorites at this point. That's kind of the reason they're here in the first place. 

The second box is filled with papers and pens. In the next one, he finds a blanket. He tears it into stripes to make a better bandage for his leg, but doesn't find anything else that could be useful. 

Michael just looks at him and does nothing. Adam didn't expect him to be helpful anyway. He wonders if he is resting, now. How do angels get energy anyway ? Like plants ? Is Michael doing his photosynthesis right now ? 

As Adam searches through a box filled with drawing supplies (And why would someone want to draw in hell he has no idea) he yawns loudly.

"Are you tired ?" Michael asks.  
  
Adam shrugs, rubbing his eyes. "Yeah ? I lost blood, and I've been awake for a while."

  
If being possessed by the archangel even counts as sleeping. Michael approaches him, looking at him like he's a puzzle to decipher.

"That means this place isn't like the cage, or there would be no concept of time for your body to understand that it's tired. It also means than in this place, it's been about fifteen hours since we got here." 

Adam frowns. "So what ? Am I your clock now ?"

"Are you hungry ?" 

The question is unexpected. Adam thinks about it, touching his stomach. He hasn't eaten in a very long time indeed. 

"No, not really." He answers honestly.

"Then this place is not like earth either, some of your body's functions have been suspended."

Adam thinks he understands a little what Michael means. He didn't need to eat or to sleep in heaven either, and time was going fast even when things were mostly the same. Time and space must be related in these different realities, like they were separate planets. 

It gives him a headache just to think about it. "If I sleep, will I be alive when I wake up ?" That's a sensible, pressing question, but Michael takes his sweet time to answer.

"Yes. I will make sure nothing happens to you while you are unconscious."

"Great." Adam really has no choice but to trust him. He takes what's left of the blanket and makes a pillow with it, then lies down on the ground, looking up at the white ceiling, curved and really high above him, like in a church. 

  
From the corners of his eyes, he can see that Michael is still looking at him. It could make him nervous, but he's glad that the archangel would know immediately if something attacked him.

He doesn't want to think about it. The thing that almost ate him earlier. He squeezes his eyes shut, and imagines his house. He can picture his mom baking some blueberry pie, like every Sunday. If he focuses hard enough, he can almost smell it.

He falls asleep. 


	3. Matthew 13:49

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "So shall it be at the end of the world: the angels shall come forth, and sever the wicked from among the just." (Matthew 13:49)

Lucifer has wings. 

First, Sam thinks it's the light that shivers ever so slightly, maybe because of the rotation of the earth. 

But no, there are actual forms there, that move up and down. It's white and clear, not smoke and not liquid, but something similar. They are as large as the wall against which the devil is leaning, about ten meters each.

They weren't here before, and Sam is not stupid. This is just to distract him, give him something new to look at. Something that is too interesting for someone like him to look away. 

It works. 

The cage doesn't allow them to be completely there, but it's not a shadow on the wall like other angels would show on earth either. It's like the cage seems to be unable to exist where Lucifer is, so it grumpily shifts away. Sam wonders how it would feel to touch them. To also be somewhere where the cage isn't. 

  
He shakes his head, closes his eyes to hide the temptation. 

"You're making this a lot more difficult for yourself than this has to be." Lucifer observes.

The sound of another voice, after so long of just the one that is always insulting him in his head makes Sam shiver violently. But he doesn't answer. 

"We have more shared goals that you are willing to admit Sam."

"Oh really ?" He's too easy to break. Easy, easy, easy. Like Ruby hasn't taught him anything. 

"For one, for you not to become insane." Sam frowns, he doubts Lucifer genuinely cares about his mental health, or he wouldn't have tried to kill everyone. 

"I still have my grace and my powers. I could give you a nice dream." The devil offers. "You could even see Dean." 

That's tempting, but Sam knows better than to accept this time. Demon blood, angel grace, he won't let himself think he is in control. 

"No. I won't take anything from you."

There is a sound of clothes moving and when Sam looks Lucifer is standing. He's tall, maybe even taller than him, and his wings almost reach the ceiling. 

"How my father would love this. Condemning me to watch your soul slowly rot because you're still on his side, even now."

Lucifer looks angry. It makes Sam want to give in so bad, fight, scream, grab him and touch and pull and press. Feel. 

"I'm not on God's side. I'm on humanity's." He tells him instead. Because he's human, even after everything he's done, everything he became. He's human. 

"I fought for my kind a long time ago, too. Almost all of them despise me now. I doubt people are worth it."

"Jess was worth it." Sam pauses, but there is no expression on Lucifer's face. Of course. "Joe was worth it. And Helen, and my mom. But they were all murdered by your demons."

"I never wanted that." 

"Why not ? Why am I different ?" Sam has to know. He deserves to know at least that.

Lucifer shifts his feet like he wants to approach him, but ends up leaning against the wall again.

"Years ago, after so long spent in the cage that I was barely existing anymore." He touches his chest like it physically hurts to think about it. "I felt that a vessel was created for me on earth. I can't describe to you what it felt like, but from then on I could sense your soul shining through my prison. You were beautiful, the purest thing I ever felt."

Sam makes a face at that, but Lucifer says it before he can asks "You're uncorrupted. Azazel and Ruby, I know what happened, but they didn't change you." He shakes his head. "They couldn't possibly. They're not that powerful."

"She was controlling me. For you." Sam points out. He has the urge to stand up too but won't give to Lucifer the pleasure to show he is intimidated. 

"Yes, but your soul remains the same. Decades of hell haven't tarnished Dean's soul either."

  
The Winchester senses something stuck in his throat, like a sob. "We're broken. It broke us."

"That's what you think, hence the whole "self-sacrifice for others" family thing. But you're not. Human souls get broken by the slightest nudge, but you're still whole. For now."

Lucifer sighs, like he's deeply sad. "The cage was made to break me, you're strong but this is too much."

"So you want to protect me now ?"

"I told you the first time we met, I want to give you everything. What happened, it wasn't fair for either of us."

Anger flares up in his chest. Because he got nothing. This place, this emptiness, it's void. Nothing.

"You." Sam stands up, and his legs hurt so bad his rage is almost not enough to keep him upright. "It was all because of you. What happened to me, to my family."

"It wasn't supposed to be like that." Lucifer says quietly. 

Sam crosses the few meters to the devil's side of the cage. Lucifer's not taller in this vessel. They're about the same size. Similar. It doesn't help. 

He grabs Lucifer's shoulders and slams him against the wall. "Stop pretending that you care, it makes me sick."

Lucifer lets him push him. He's soft in a way that's too human to be true, and so cold, especially compared to the disgustedly warm floor. Nothing is what it should be, even the pain in the devil's eyes. 

Suddenly, the floor shifts below Sam's feet, like a rug has peen pulled from under him. He falls on his side and Lucifer catches him. Sam would believe that it's his doing but the surprise and dread on his face is too ernest. 

"Sam." There is a sound like billions of insects fall from the ceiling. Sam tries to look down but the angel grabs his face. "Don't. Sam. Look at me."

His eyes are blue like the submerged part of an iceberg. They hold him there when reality shifts.

\- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - 

When Adam wakes up Michael is still looking at him. His skin itches with the intensity of the stare. 

He stretches, his back stiff from sleeping on the floor. "Was I asleep for a long time ?"

Michael frowns. "I don't know."

  
Fair enough. He forgot that he is the one with a sense of time here. How strange, it never occurred to him that having a biological clock could be an advantage, compared to immortal beings.

Well, it hasn't been a long time since he learned about their existence though. 

He checks his leg, but there is no wounds underneath the bandages.

"I healed it while you were sleeping." Michael explains.

"Oh." 

He won't say thank you, never to him. 

He stands up and tries to regain his balance, his body still adjusting to the abnormally fast recovery.

"So, how many guardians are chasing us right now ?" He asks.

"Probably three, now that one is dead."

"Probably ?"

"My father likes mirroring his creations. Four archangels guarding the earth, I would imagine there are four guardians guarding this place."

Adam swallows. "Isn't that a bit tasteless ? To make replicas of you look like that ?"

Michael looks at him and says nothing, but he's not disagreeing either. 

The archangel moves towards the door and Adam follows him. He gets a stern look. 

"I'm not staying here alone." He warns. "Any dangerous monster could kill me."

"And you don't think I'm dangerous ?"

Yes, yes of course he is. Adam remembers, the sheer power inside of him. Like a nuclear bomb, a comet, space and a black hole, all at once. He remembers being pushed back to a small corner of his mind where he was barely allowed to exist. 

"You need me alive, right ? Otherwise I would already be dead."

He'll need a vessel once he's back on earth, to continue the apocalypse. Dean will never say yes, and Adam already proved he can contain the archangel. 

Michael moves his shoulders like he would spread his wings if he could. "I need you alive, but not necessarily whole. Know your place."

Adam holds his stare. "This isn't. My place."

"It is now."

"For someone who only talks about destiny, you seem pretty willing to change it if needs be."

The angel takes a step towards him. But Adam is tired of being scared by higher beings. He doesn't move. 

  
No one gets to tell him he's inferior. 

Something changes in Michael's expression and his shoulders drop. "Let's go." 

They walk around a long time, opening more doors and finding more weird stuffs. But it seems that knowing that they are also chasing them is keeping the guardians away. Actually, now that he is staying with Michael, the place is pretty.. Boring.

"When you'll be done with me, will I be dead again ?"

Michael always looks annoyed to have to talk to him, serves him right for bringing a human with him in here. He needs to socialize. 

"Yes. You won't survive being my vessel for long."

"Will I see my mom in heaven ?"

"I don't know. Joshua is the one who deals with this kind of things."

This kind of things being the souls of billions of people who would probably like to meet. Adam didn't hate heaven, but it wasn't real. Happy memories, relieved eternally. Like everything about religion, good but not true. 

Michael doesn't seem to care even a little.

"What about angels ? Where do they go when they die ?"

Michael actually sighs. "Nowhere. Graces are different than souls, they aren't bound to existence by your laws of physics. They disappear."

"Isn't that scary ?" 

The angel finally looks at him. "Scary ?"

"Aren't you afraid to die ?"

"I won't die. I will kill my brother as my father planed." 

Again with the destiny shit. "Yeah, okay. But then Lucifer will just disappear ? Is that fair ?"

"God defines what's fair."

"Does he ? I never really followed God's rules when I could."

Michael frowns. "And here you are."

Adam laughs, even if the joke was clearly accidental. Michael looks confused and that makes him laugh even more. 

"You know, lots of people make fun of christians by saying they'll probably go to hell. Because we don't care that much."

"Are you stupid ?" 

  
Adam smiles. "No. We're good at pretending like everything will be okay. Otherwise being mortal would be too sad."

"That seems foolish."

"It is. But cynicism is even more difficult in the long-run. And that's the two choices."

  
They walk for a while, in silence, before the angel answers. 

"Adam and Eve." Michael looks up, like he's picturing them. "They were happy. Before they fell. But they wanted knowledge and freedom. I wonder what they would think of that."

"I think they were right. I mean, the existential crisis are the bad parts, but there is a lot of good too."

"What ?" Michael asks, this time looking like he really wants to know.

"Like having them together." 

Something softens in the archangel's eyes and Adam wants to keep explaining, tell him about cynical humor and hugging, and paying someone fifty bucks an hour so they will they you how to keep going. But the angel suddenly stops and presses a hand against his mouth.

He pulls him inside an empty room and closes the door. They stay there, frozen, and Adam doesn't hear anything approach. 

But then there is definitely something, as the shadow of it appears in the interstice between the door and the floor. It seems to be.. Flowing, like a river, if rivers had a conscience. 

It makes no sounds. They watch it pass them in complete silence until it's gone.

After a while, Michael opens the door again. 

"What was that ?" Adam whispers, just in case. 

"Its.." He hesitates, not like he's cautious, more like he's trying to find a way to explain that to someone way more limited. 

"Something dead." He settles on. "Something dead that didn't have anywhere to go."

"It didn't disappear ?" 

"No. But I think it would have preferred that."

Adam swallows the bile in his mouth, and they keep walking. 


	4. Exodus 23:20

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Behold, I send an Angel before thee, to keep thee in the way, and to bring thee into the place which I have prepared" (Exodus 23:20)

Sam wakes up. Slow, easy and nice. He feels drowsy, but better than he has ever been since he  fell in the cage. Being unconscious was a blessing. He doesn't want to open his eyes, doesn't want to go back to reality. 

"Sam, it's time to come back." A gentle voice, close to him.

He shuts his eyes harder and pretends like he's still asleep, like a kid. 

Dean would carry him in the car when he was too tired, when they where children. He would wrap him in a blanket and lie him down on the back seat of the impala.

It felt so warm. So Sam would pretend to be asleep all the time. He's pretty sure that Dean knew and just played along.

"Sam." The voice again.

"Please." He whines, bringing his legs closer to his chest. 

He just wants to enjoy the memory, he just wants a few more minutes.

There is a hand in his hair, the fingertips barely grazing his skull.

And he's sleeping again. 

When he wakes up the second time, he feels so normal and fine that he opens his eyes and sits in the bed reflexively. For a second, he searches Dean on the bed that should be next to his. 

There is another bed, a few feet away, but it's empty.

"It's a memory" The voice, again. But this time he recognizes it.

Lucifer is sitting on the window's edge. Outside, there is a parking lot covered in a thick layer of snow. A few red and green christmas lights have been hanged on the coat rack. There is a small TV, two nightstands, and a big wooden wardrobe. 

Sam doesn't remember this particular motel, but it does look like somewhere he and his brother might have slept while working on a case.

He gets up, takes a few step towards the devil "Get. out. of. my. head." His voice is sluggish, but he still manages to throw all the hatred he can in the words. 

Lucifer smiles sadly. "I'm not in your head. If anything, you're in mine."

"What ?" 

Sam suddenly remembers, something had changed in the cage, right before he passed out. "Did the cage collapse ?" He asks.

"No. You did." Lucifer lips form a thin line, as if he's searching for the right words. "Something snatched your body. Leaving your soul behind. This goes against the cage's rules, so it tried to.. Eat you. I guess you would call it."

Sam represses a shiver. He doesn't know if he should believe Lucifer, but he has no other explanations for what happened, for now, and he does remember the cage closing in on him. 

"What took my body ?"

"I don't know, it was too fast. Not a demon, or I would have sensed it."

Because they are his, is left unsaid. Sam looks around him. The new space is so nice, and sleeping felt so good. It's clear Lucifer still isn't trying to torture him, or at least not in an obvious manner.

"Where am I ? I mean my soul." But he is his soul, now. That's confusing. He touches his chest, which feels solid and normal. Aren't souls like, balls of lights ?

"You're in my grace. I took you before the cage could, but I figured you wouldn't like more blinding light, so I've let you come up with a dream that would be comfortable for you. Although I don't understand why here, specifically." Lucifer gestures to the room, frowning a little in confusion.

Sam doesn't know why either. He looks at the room carefully, trying to figure out which case they were working on when they crashed here, when suddenly it hits him. 

"It wasn't a case." He whispers.

Lucifer isn't looking at him, he's staring outside the window. It makes it easy to talk to him.

"When I was 8, dad dropped Dean and I here and took off. Dean bought a ton of food and hid it in the wardrobe, made me open it like a present. We stayed awake the whole night eating and watching christmas movies."

He feels a burst of warmth in his chest thinking about it. Not daring to hope, he walks to the wardrobe and opens it.

He doesn't know if it was there all along or if Lucifer just willed it into existence, but it's here. Chocolate bars, pizza, pie and cake. All the stuff that is so Dean.

He grabs a small apple pie and sits on the floor to eat it. It's the best feeling ever, his tastebuds coming back to life, sugar and fruits, it feels so real. 

He's crying.

"Sam." Lucifer sounds worried. His name almost always sounds worried in his mouth. He and Dean have that in common. 

That's the only thing. Sam wants to bang his head against the wall, how could he compare his brother to this monster ? 

"I should go back to the cage, I can't stay here." He sobs. This is too much, too good. He won't be able to separate Lucifer from this gift. He's too used to only see the good in others, and didn't that fuck everything up in the past ?

"Sam, if I let you go back in the cage, you will disappear. I don't know where the cage will absorb you, but it will no doubt be even worst than death." Lucifer hesitates. "Would you like to be somewhere else ? This place seems to make you sad." 

The winchester looks up at him, surprised. "I'm not crying because I'm sad."

''You're not ?"

Sam has to smile. "You don't know much about human emotions, do you ?"

It's fascinating, how Lucifer can be so clueless about the most basic things. Is that what made him so cruel ? Innocence ? A lack of knowledge ?

"I know what more things than you do." Lucifer counters, looking annoyed.

Sam's smile drops. "Don't read my thoughts."

The devil looks like a child who won't give his favorite toy. "But they're right there, so close to mine."

"Just don't."

Lucifer sigh, and there is a second of silence, then Sam feels a weird tingling sensation like the pores of his skin are all being shut off. 

"There. You're me-proof." 

"Great." Not that he believes him. 

He tries not to, anyway.

\- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

"You have to sleep ? Again ?"

If only he had an angel blade, if only he could cut this bastard's wing and sell them to KFC…

"I can't help it. I'm human." Adam controls his voice as best as he cain to hide his anger. 

Sleep seems to be Michael's least favorite human needs. Actually, considering he's supposed to be on their side, it's stunning how much Michael hates every aspect of humanity. 

He clearly only protects it to obey his father. If it was only his decision, Adam has no doubt the archangel would erase them all in the blink of an eye.

The more he spends time with the celestial being, the more Adam comes to realize that Michael is entirely shaped by duties, to the point where he has almost no personality beyond that. It seems he hates no one, cares for no one, loves no one.

Well, that's not completely true. If Adam is honest, he remembers. When he was being shaken in the angel's grace like in the inside of a blender, a slow, deep, foreign maelstrom of feelings flowing trough him.

He had tried to ignore them the best he could, as they were too old and alien to be understandable, but as Michael had recognized his brother's grace, Adam had felt it. Sorrow, guilt, anger, regrets.

And love. The happiness that you get from seeing someone you missed so much that you thought their absence would kill you.

Adam understands the feeling too well. He misses his mom everyday. She's been dead for a while, but he never had the chance to grieve, being dead himself and all that.

Michael isn't the worst company, beyond the fact that he's always extremely annoyed with him, he's actually really knowledgeable. He's also got that older brother's habit to answer every questions Adam asks, and Adam loves to learn new things.

The Milligan is certainly better off than Sam. Fuck, Sam. Lucifer must have tortured him every second of the past five months. 

  
Adam's anger for his brothers has melted away. Even for Dean, having lost his little brother must be its own kind of hell. 

"Wait here, I will fly to find a safe room." Michael tells him, pulling him out of his thoughts. 

Adam nods. He's pretty used to the angel ditching him to travel faster by now. Michael never brings him with him to avoid burning too much energy, and honestly Adam isn't too sad about that.

When the archangel has disappeared, the young man sits on the floor to at least rest his legs. The angel never stops one second, tirelessly searching the guardians of the cage. Adam doesn't get cramps in the prison, but that doesn't stop his brain from reminding him that he should.

And food, god how much his psyche misses food. He would eat anything.

"Hello."

Adam jumps so hard that he slams his head against the wall and sees stars for a few seconds.

When his vision clears, he realizes that he's not alone anymore.

A man is standing right in front of his. He's in his forties, with white hair and a round, agreeable face. He nice grey suit and expensive shoes. He reminds Adam of one of his college teacher, so much that it's troubling. 

"Uh.. Hi ? Who are you ?"

Adam stands up and takes a step back, realizing that's not the appropriate question.

'"What are you ?" He demands this time.

The man smiles kindly. '"Don't be scared, human. God may have trapped me here, but I am also one of his children, just like you."  
  
This guy sounds like he learned english from everywhere but people. It makes Adam uneasy. Should he call Michael ? But the archangel will kill the man immediately. What if he tells the truth ?

"You were locked in one of the cells ? Why ?" The blond asks.

"Alas, I was sent here not because of what I did but because of who I am. My abilities." 

"Your abilities ?"

"See, I can resurrect the dead." Adam freezes. "Of course, God realized that if I were to stay on earth, people would start worshipping me instead of him. He needed you to fear death in order to love him."

"Resurrect the dead ?" His voice shakes, almost breaks on the last word.

"That's why I wanted to talk to you, Adam. Would you like to see your mother ?"

Adam feels a surge of pain in his chest, like he was stabbed. At the same time, he is highly suspicious of the creature. He knows too much about him, his name, his mother. And Adam still think that it's really strange how alike he is to one of his old professors. Almost like..

"Adam."

He turns on his heels. Right behind him, a woman has appeared where Michael once stood.

"Mom." An uncontrollable sobs is ripped out of him. He missed her so much, and now she's right there, wearing the same apron she used to tie around her waist whenever she would make Sunday waffles. 

"Oh honey, come here." She opens her arms wide, her eyes glowing with tenderness. 

He wants to take a step towards her, but he can't move. 

"Good, good, good boy. Now you can't pray to your angel, can you ?"

The man behind him has gotten really close. Adam can't see him now, but his voice has shifted to something more guttural, and seems to come from way higher than a middle-aged man's mouth should be.

Fuck.

"Michael will find you sweetie, don't worry." The monster that wears his mother's face tells him. "But, well, it won't exactly be you that he finds." She smiles, teeth and gum visible, like a real human wouldn't. 

"See all we need is a second of hesitation to trap him." The professor lookalike continues. "And then, we're gonna have so much fun with both of you." 

He still can't even blink, but Adam's heart is beating madly in his chest. They trapped him, and now they're gonna get Michael, and he can't do anything.

He tries to think as hard as he can, like a scream in his head. MICHAEL DON'T COME BACK, IT'S DANGEROUS. 

The woman approaches him, closing the distance between them. She puts a hand on his cheek, softly rubbing his skin.

"So cute, you're trying to save him ? He can't hear you sweetheart, but I can."

You bitch, why don't you go back to your rabbit cage ? He thinks.

She giggles, and it sounds like the fake laughters in the old tv-shows. "Oh baby. Actually, we own this place."


	5. Matthew 13:39

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "The enemy that sowed them is the devil; the harvest is the end of the world; and the reapers are the angels." (Matthew 13:39)

Sam wakes up sitting, which is quiet strange because he's certain he fell asleep on a bed. 

It had been easy for Lucifer to convince him to rest, after he finished eating a good part of the food that was in the wardrobe, while crying. It's not like the angel had never been around him while he was unconscious, and all those regained sensations had completely exhausted him. 

There is a road ahead of him, but it takes him a few seconds to realize that he's in the impala.

  
Even if Lucifer had tried to trick him, he would know that it's a dream, because he's in the driver's seat. 

Maybe the devil knew that Sam would hate seeing him in his brother's place, so he made himself appear in the passenger's seat. Or maybe Lucifer doesn't know how to drive, even in a dream. 

Sam recognizes the road. 

If they were on earth, they would be going to Bobby's house. 

Lucifer is incredibly close, in the confined space, but it doesn't make him uncomfortable. He knows he should be, but they've shared a body before, after all. There is not point in pretending he needs space now.

"I can't believe you would choose to travel in this thing." The devil comments out loud. 

"It's convenient, when you can't fly."

"Don't you have flying machines as well ?"

"Planes ?" Lucifer makes a face like he's crossed path with one of those is the sky and didn't like the encounter. "Yeah, but they're expensive. And most people don't know how to drive those."

There is a left turn, Sam has no idea where it goes. He turns the wheel and finds out that he can, actually, control the car. 

But he doesn't have to. His foot is not even on the accelerator. Lucifer's hallucination is letting him decide whether he wants to drive or not.

They find themselves in the middle of an autumn forest, yellow and red leaves flying on the windshield. The road is bumpy but the car doesn't bounce at all.

"What does it feel like.."

Sam hesitates, when Lucifer looks at him with his intense stare that means he has his full attention. But they're already talking anyway.

"To fly ? I mean, as an angel."

Lucifer smiles, happy with Sam's curiosity. "It is thrilling. Everything is dulled, in my true form, but flying is so quick and hazardous that it feels like I'm becoming solid. Especially in heaven…" His smiles becomes melancholic, eyes feeling with regrets. "I could completely spread my wings, and let myself be carried by the fastest wind in existence. Gabriel was especially good at crashing into things, the garden of Eden has lots of holes in the shape of him."

He goes silent after mentioning his brother. Sam knows he shouldn't feel bad for the angel, who killed his own brother. He also knows there is not point in hating him for it. Lucifer never understands his hatred.

"When I was four, I tried to fly, once." He tells the angel. "I had a dream of jumping from the roof of a building and flying away. Good thing I tried from the roof of this car, first. I only broke my arm."

There is an emotion in Lucifer's eyes that makes Sam look straight at the road, taking a right turn that leads them in a rainy countryside. 

"That's a sad dream for a child, Sam." The angel answers softly. 

  
The winchester's hands clench the wheel tightly, but there is no anger in the gesture. He's long stopped being resentful of his childhood, now there is only regrets and mourning in those memories. 

But that doesn't mean the past is gone.

"I was a sad child." He says truthfully.

  
He realizes then. That he had never admitted that before. He was too afraid to hurt John and Dean, who had done their best to keep him happy despite the circumstances. 

But he was not. 

There was an emptiness in his brother and his father's eyes, attempts at looking like a family that felt too fake to be comforting. Days where no one would say a word, an unbearable tension that he was too innocent to understand but that would weigh on him forever. 

Dean's love, that was everything but also not enough.

"I wanted to leave. Even before Stanford, long before Stanford. I just felt like.. They would be so much more happy, without me. Not having to pretend that everything was fine for my sake."

There is a moment where there is only the sound of the rain falling on the roof of the car, distant and calming.

"They probably missed you." Lucifer says eventually. "It must have been a relief, for them, to pretend." 

He stares back at the angel's blue eyes. "But it wasn't fair. To use me like that." 

"No." Lucifer agrees. "It wasn't. And It was brave of you to leave."

Sam frowns. "Are you trying to flatter me ?"

The archangel laughs, making almost no sound like he hasn't completely understood the gesture yet. "I'm being jealous, actually."

"Jealous of me ?" 

"Yes, Sam. I was thrown away from heaven, I never chose to leave. I had to fight against my brothers because they attacked me. My only choice was to disagree with my father.. And that was enough for everyone to turn against me."

"You led a rebellion, that was a big decision."

Lucifer shakes his head. "I had no understanding of what I did. No comprehension of the possible consequences. It was long before angels like Castiel started doubting by themselves. I thought If I just explained to God that he was wrong, that everything would immediately be fixed. I didn't gather an army, I gathered an audience. I fought against Michael because I was convinced that my father would see my sincerity in my determination."

Sam can't imagine. Being the first to ever disagree with God. But he can picture how confusing the events must have been at the time. For every being involved. He remembers in an history lesson, learning the astonishment of the world's population when the first nuclear bomb was dropped. Because no one had imagined humanity would ever be capable of such an horrendous crime.

And Lucifer had been on the other side of the first war of creation. The loosing side. Can you choose a fight when you don't even understand the concept ?

"You jumped from the building's roof." Sam whispers.

He doesn't know if he imagines it, but something shifts in Lucifer's stance, something loosens and relaxes. 

\- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

The guardian who still looks like his mom carries him to a dark room and drops him on the floor. Then, they leave. He's left to breath the scent of rotten flesh that seems to permeate every cell. 

There is absolutely no source of light, and he hopes the place is empty.

For a minute, and despite the fact that his body is still paralyzed, he wants to punch a wall. It's the second time a monster used his mom's face to get to him, and it is not less of a shock. He can't believe he's so weak. If Michael hadn't been with him the whole time, he would have died a thousand time.

Michael. If the guardians can change appearance, they're going to use his to dupe the archangel and kill him. He can't let that happen.

What would Sam and Dean do ? 

He feels his fingers twitch with the adrenaline he can sense, flooding through his veins. 

He can't keep being used and protected by higher beings like this. He has to do something.

He digs his nails into the flesh of his hands, hard and long, until his hands start to shake uncontrollably. The smell of fresh blood is added to the stale one. 

Finally, the shaking spread to his forearms. Whatever they did to him seems to subside with pain.

He manages to reach out in front of him, and slowly, painfully, crawl on his belly. On the skin that's not covered with clothes, he can feel himself being covered with the grim of the leftovers of the atrocities that happened here. 

His hand comes into contact with a knife left there, and he holds it tightly. He can hear footsteps approaching on the other side of the door. He hides his weapon under his chest and closes his eyes, pretending to be unconscious.

The door opens, and someone comes near him. It walks like a person, with two legs. It must be the one that has his mom's face.

He braces himself, no matter what it looks like, he has to hit quick and deadly to have a chance to survive and maybe help Michael.

He waits. The thing is somewhere to his left. It's crouching down to his level. He feels his whole body tense up, his fingers squeezing the knife with all the strength can muster. 

The moment he feels it touching his head, he quickly turns on his back and aims for the heart.

A hand grabs his wrist before he can reach anything. 

"What are you doing ?" Michael is calm, matter-of-fact, like usual.

But this might be another ruse. Adam reaches out for his throat with his other hand, but the angel grabs this one too.

Eventually, he seems to understand.

"Adam, it's me. You know it's me."

  
Now that his panic is subsiding, Adam does know. There his an easy recognition, his soul knowing what was once so close to it, when they were one.

"I thought you were dead." He whispers. Tears finally drop from his eyes and onto the filthy floor. His fingers shake, with exhaustion, and the knife slips out of his hand. Michael catches it before it slices Adam's face.

"Of course I knew It wasn't you. You're my vessel." He sounds annoyed with him, proof that it's really the angel.

"Where are they ?" Adam asks. 

"The one that took your appearance managed to escape. The other one is dead." He sighs. "The two left are going to be harder to catch. They will be more careful now." He turns Adam's wrist, palm upwards. "What happened to your hands ?" 

He doesn't wait for an answer before he brushes his thumbs on the wounds. Just like that, Adam can move again.

He pulls his hands out of the angel's grasp, stands up, and goes out of the room. In the well lighted hallway, he can see the smears of flesh and blood and god knows what all over him. He doesn't even have a change of clothes, he can't shower.

He doesn't know why, this, more than anything else make him snap, but when he turns to see Michael behind him, he wishes he still had the knife. 

He grabs the taller man's collar. "It took the appearance of my mom." 

The angel doesn't seem to understand how much it matters. "I didn't knew you would be so manipulable. Maybe you shouldn't stay alone."

He's not trying to hurt him, Adam knows. He just states it as a fact, as another piece of information to store in his endless brain.

"Sorry I'm not a robotic asshole." He spits back, anyway. Because he's human, and he won't let himself be insulted by some feathery douchebag who ruined his life.

Michael's eyes darken, but he doesn't answer. It's fine, Adam hasn't finished talking.

"I couldn't help but pray that you wouldn't come and be hurt." He says, looking away when he feels his chest contract painfully. "You know why ? Because I care about you Michael." He laughs, at himself, at this situation, at the universe. "Not because it's you, but because you're there, around me, and it's been months. And so, my stupid human brain considers you as a friend."

The archangel is stoic. He doesn't seem to know what to do with Adam's little outburst. He looks up, as if asking for an answer, and eventually replies.

"I want you to stay alive."

He announces it like it's something. But Adam knew already, that Michael needed his meat-sack for the second round of the apocalypse.

"That's not enough." Dying once makes you reconsider the weight of the whole ordeal. 

Michael tilts his head to the side, curious. "What do you want, then ?"

The blond is taken aback by the question. He wants angel to act and think like a human, but clearly that isn't possible. He wants, he wants..

He wants to stop being weak. And if this world won't adapt to him, he has to adapt to it. 

"I want to kill the guardian that used my mom's appearance." Michael frowns. "I want you to teach me how to fight." He adds

"You're human."

"I'm a Winchester. We won against you before."

Maybe that wasn't the right thing to stay, but he prefers having the angel angry at him than annoyed, like he's a kid throwing a tantrum.

"I don't have time for this." Michael turns around and walks away, clearly expecting him to drop it and follow him.

  
Clearly he still doesn't understand humanity really well.

The Milligan grabs his forearm, and the angel stops, looking actually shocked that Adam would dare to touch him. 

"Mike." The nickname comes easily, now that he knows what to do next. "You need me right ? And you don't want to have to carry my unconscious body around until we leave this box, right ?"

No answer means Michael is too stubborn to agree with him. Perfect.

"Then you're gonna have to be my friend, pal." 


End file.
